Poisoned Rationality

A group of teenagers piled into the store; their laughter and over-exaggerated relief pouring out as adrenaline made them high. Periodic gunshots still sounded from several streets away, echoing through the pedestrian streets. Behind the counter, a worried shop assistant called out to the manager. "There\'s been another alert."



"What is it now?" The woman played with the keys in her hand, always just a moment\'s decison away from locking and shuttering the doors on a world gone mad. Things like this shouldn\'t happen under Kira. The city centre shouldn\'t become a war-zone.



"It\'s not just here. Everything has gone down." She gushed. "The whole city is having a power cut."



Between the carousels of clothing, Mello stiffened. His hands gripped the mobile phone in his hand, but he dared not ring. He had no way of knowing whether this was a coincidence or the response from one of the factions involved in tracking them down. He tried to piece together who stood to gain from a city in chaos and could see no motivation that aided Kira or Near. In fact, every logical deduction led back to Mello himself. He stared thoughtfully at the phone and listened to the conversations around him. As long as no report told him that Matt was dead, then there was hope.



"What are they advising?" The manager asked, nerves visible as another volley of gunfire erupted, closer now.



"To stay calm. Order will be restored."



The teenagers were clambering up the window, as if glass would save them from stray bullets. They were all, without exception, engaged in animated conversations into their phones. Mello selected a long leather jacket, with a deep, furred hood, and approached the counter. His long hair fell over his facial scar; he had the coat on already. Bowing and remaining slightly inclined, he informed them that he would like to buy it. There was flurry of apologies regarding the uselessness of the till without electricity, but Mello handed them the correct money in yen. "Keep the change." Battleground or not, this was a big sale. It would justify the store being open today, even if they sold nothing else. The manager took his money and wrote a note for the till. Mello bowed again and stalked out into those dangerous streets.



The first thing he noticed was the lack of advertisements flashing above his head. The assault on his senses silenced, as the stilled electricity prickled against his skin like a living thing. It was disorientating and faintly disturbing to think that ordinarily they wouldn\'t feel this. Not when the current was being channeled through the myriad of items to power. This was a citywide supply transmuted into static electricity and it hurt to walk through. The second thing he noticed was that the fountains had stopped. He believed that was due to the power cut as well, until someone called from an eaterie that the water was down. Mello frowned. One utility was a coincidence; but two suggested intervention. This could be something to do with Near. He would have the power to disable the utilities in a city. Could Near be trying to help them?



Feet pounded behind Mello and he ducked against a shop-window. Black suited men hurried by, yet the avenue ahead was devoid of anyone whom they could be chasing. One near the rear of the group fell back and, for a heart-stopping moment, Mello thought that he had been recognised. But the man just shouted back. "Forget it! The airwaves have been scrambled. It\'s no use." He waited and was joined by another half a dozen men. They all ran away around a corner.



Mello slunk after them, as close as he dared, as casual as he could be. They led him past a cafe, where he nearly collided with an over-excited youngster coming out. Apologies were exchanged, then the boy yelled to a friend. It was right in Mello\'s ear and he glared, before registering the words. "Excuse me, what did you say?" Mello peered into the cafe. Several people were congregated around a single laptop, much to the annoyance of everyone else in there. "Excuse me?" But the boy was joined by his friend and they leapt back within. Mello followed, loitering at the back of the group, listening to their yelping conversation.



"Youths." A besuited woman tutted, leaning conspiratorily in towards Mello. His height and age must have set him out as an ally. "It\'s all about the fascination for anti-heroes. They haven\'t worked out yet that this can\'t be helping Kira. Right at the time when the police are trying to find the rebels."



Mello bit back a sharp retort and instead schooled his tone into polite interest. "Ma\'am, perhaps you could tell me what is going on please?"



"Yes." She nodded towards the computer. "Apparently an international gang of infamous hackers are having some kind of contest and playing havoc with our city in the process. This happened in America once as well. Very irresponsible. Think about the hospitals."



"Right." Hope made Mello want to kiss her. "Hackers?"



One of the children turned with glowing eyes, happiness beaming from his broad grin. "There\'s rumours that it\'s CrashnBurn, Force10 and Mariomatt," He paused for emphasis, "at the same time!"



Mello shrugged, as if to say, \'who are these people?\', but one name had risen from the list and snagged itself in his heart. He covered his mouth with his hands and leaned in to see. It was a forum, each refreshing of the page pulling up more hysterical speculation. He was pushed out of the way. The owner had come to eject the children from his cafe, amidst a wailing of protest. The blond noted the URL and slipped away to the back of the room. No water meant no hot chocolate, but he now had a few bars to eat. He was calmer now at least. More able to think. Had he heard those names before? He had once conducted his own investigations in the world of the cyberpirates and all of the names seemed familiar. The last certainly so. Mariomatt. One of the most infamous hackers in the world? Mello took a dark pride in the label, but the lack of information was killing him.



Someone shrieked from the other side of the room. "They are evacuating the city! There are roadblock and security checks before you can leave!"



"That\'s sensible." A reply came from the centre somewhere. "If the rebels are inside, then that will flush them out."



Mello bowed his head. This was too close to the knuckle. If he had been alone in this, then he might take his chances, but Matt was out there somewhere. There was no guarantee that he was involved in the immediate chaos; names got mentioned at times like this that didn\'t always have anything to do with the reality. All the blond could see when he closed his eyes was the resources he had had in Los Angeles, with an army of Mafia at his desposal. He would call in the next best thing. His tenuous claim to the help of the Triads.



He extracted the phone from his pocket and pulled a number from his wallet. As he deliberated, turning over the possible options in his mind, the phone rang out. The legend said \'restricted number\'. It was probably Hal. "Yes?"



The most welcome voice in the world screamed in his ear, "Where the fuck are you?"



Mello let go of the breath that he\'d been holding for hours and grinned. "Hello Matt."